


CONSUME

by PTWL



Series: Kinktober-2019 [10]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Captain/Quartermistress, Consentacles, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Height Differences, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, Kinktober 2019, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sailors, Telepathic Bond, Tentacle Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTWL/pseuds/PTWL
Summary: Tyra has sat on Qora’s short sturdy legs, almost trapping her under her weight. She isn’t though, because her quartermistress wants to be there with the captain, which makes it all the better. Tyra has been invaded with that overwhelming thirst she often feels: for knowledge, for power, for wealth, for her partner…[Day 10: Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic) ]





	CONSUME

**Author's Note:**

> Late again but here I am! We'll see if I'm able to make it tomorrow...

Tyra has sat on Qora’s short sturdy legs, almost trapping her under her weight. She isn’t though, because her quartermistress wants to be there with the captain, which makes it all the better. Tyra has been invaded with that overwhelming thirst she often feels: for knowledge, for power, for wealth, for her partner… She wants to devour her whole and leave nothing for later even if that would mean she’d be starving later. The light tickling of Qora’s beard isn’t unpleasant on her neck and chest and it brings her down to earth momentarily. Her partner so is magnificent she even pleases it even if it dislikes when Tyra gets too smug about it. 

Tyra runs a hand through her dirty blond hair, letting it fall back and away from her face. Qora has cupped her breasts on her calloused hands and is sucking on one of her nipples as she pinches the other. It quakes within her, eager to be left out. Tyra feels the eldritch power of the ancient ink beneath her skin shift as the depiction of the large Kraken that often lays dormant on her back comes alive with the sheer intent of joining them. She knows her partner still finds it amusing that an entity of such power and antiquity would take interest in the mundane pleasures of the flesh of its host and acolyte.

Her skin shifts between realities and darkness emerges from it. The air between them, already hot and damp, becomes even more oppressive at the manifestation. It takes shape from nothingness until it becomes a mimicry of what they might consider a squid tentacle. Its form shakes, not fully stable on this plane despite Tyra’s best efforts.

Qora has opened her eyes to look at their display of power with great interest and she smirks. “Seems like we have company.”

“We always do.” There is something deep and otherworldly to Tyra’s voice but it sings through her veins, overcoming her with new strength. They are one and, as Tyra belongs to it, this part of its power is woven entirely to her existence.

The trait that makes Qora exceptional, unlike those brutish and closeminded blackguards she used to work with, it that, even if she is unable to commune with Higher Beings, she is a reasonable woman. She admires Tyra for her ability and comprehension of the arts and shows curiosity where Tyra is used to only finds raw and animalistic horror.

Qora looks so very comfortable as she reaches for one of its tendrils with her hand, as if taking a lady’s hand, and places a chaste kiss on it as a greeting and an invitation. It enjoys the devotion of Qora’s affections, as does its host. “Lay down, my queen. Allow me to serve you.” She mutters against its fickle shape as she glances at Tyra’s golden eyes.

“US.” It clouds Tyra’s head until there is no Tyra and no it but a single they, something bigger, greater. The fusion of mortal flesh and resolve with an ancient power. “SERVE US.” They command her prayer and her worship and Qora, so very humble, obliges enthusiastically.

They allow their faithful follower to lay Tyra’s human body on her bed, between luxurious fabrics she has collected from every corner of the world in her desperate attempt to mitigate her unrelenting cravings. They caress Qora’s neck with one pitch-black tendril and guide her closer to their current form. The softer materials are a bliss on her back as Qora slowly settles above her. They keep their eyes open as Qora kisses her hungrily. Such a display of mortal affection should appear naught but a trifling gesture to their ever-expanding mind. Yet Tyra’s inferior mortal interests make the tiniest spark of that world-consuming longing surface. Surely in an amount that her vulnerable vessel can outlive.

Qora worships them as she holds their hips with her purely martially trained hands. The nature of mortalkind fascinates them beyond measure. How they can shape themselves with their limited resources and knowledge. A commendable deep coming from creatures so brittle. After her teeth had forsaken their erect nipples, their servant traces her path further down with her tongue and more tendrils spring from their skin. To most, it would have appeared threatening but not to Qora, who smiles and offers one of them her hand, guiding them to wrap on the back of Tyra’s knee, holding her legs apart. They find her sheer audacity entertaining and indulge in her bold behavior.

With her pathway clear, Qora adjusts so her face is in close proximity to Tyra’s sex. She runs a rough finger through Tyra’s dripping slit. It knows about the simplicity of sexual reproduction but doesn’t concern much on it. They prefer the short yet powerful satisfaction associated with it, small as it is compared to higher pursuits. Yet the shape of the darkness shivers unstably when Qora spreads Tyra’s wetness through her inner, most sensitive, folds. Her fingers find the curious shape covering her clitoris like a hood. With a couple of fingers on each side of said hood, she kneads gently into skin, lighting Tyra’s nerves alight. They spread Tyra’s legs even further open, growing impatient at not being immediately satisfied and having to build Tyra’s body for it.

There is no need for them to talk as their bond can even scratch the surface of others’ minds and communicate in the most primal manner with Qora. She is already used to their eccentricities. She really is one of a kind, finding familiarity among unsettling forces beyond her mind's grasp.

_WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?_ Their mind cries, linking to Qora’s matrix. _WE COMMAND YOU TO SERVE US!_

And Qora isn’t terrified of their restlessness though and they find her challenge engaging. Mortal’s bravery is but a glorified and attached manner to name their unmatchable stupidity. Yet their fretfulness recedes as she pinches Tyra’s sleek coated clit and dismisses entirely the short distance between them. They groan, deep and primal, voice traveling through air and thought through the matrix as Qora sheathes her tongue in Tyra’s drenched slit, tender and sensitive as more sensations wash over their limited state of mind when their partner continues her assault against her nub without even needing to reach for it. Their tendrils curl around Tyra’s leg, contorting in pleasure.

There is something about the mindless grace of flesh that becomes infuriating outrageously too quickly for a creature of its kind. They worry not about startling Qora with their sudden rush of movement as their preternatural appendages advance to join her in her task. The tip of one of the tendrils arranges itself between Qora’s fingers, finally pressing where she would not, leaving them craving her touch. Tyra’s back arches, lifting slightly from the mattress. One of Qora’s hands pin her hips to it whilst her legs are raised and bent, nearly enveloped in darkness. She gives a wet open-mouthed kiss to its tapered tip and they restrain themselves for now from pushing into her mouth.

They shake under her ministrations, mouth going dry from breathing through if, aiming for a greater income of oxygen to keep Tyra’s body working properly. However, it’s driving her throat hoarse. They know well that Qora enjoys it so it’s naught but an insignificant concern. Tyra is Stormseeker’s captain and it’s no secret she does as she pleases, how she pleases. This is no different.

They close her eyes when they grasp Qora’s short hair, tugging at it, holding into anything to still Tyra’s already quivering form. The unsteady shape of the tendril abandons her hardened clit to press beside Qora’s tongue, moving against her walls. They groan in annoyance as Qora pulls away, feeling them penetrate themselves slowly. But she is fast to please them and Tyra’s nub is being pushed against swollen lips and gently pressed between teeth. Inside her, the manifestation’s neverending shifting and unstable shape molds to her insides.

They feel their vision blur as they speak in tongues unheard to the mortal ear in generations. Their dear believer makes them run close to out of air with her hands and mouth and Tyra’s inner walls clench and unclench around the uneven shape pushing and twisting within her until their mind goes blank, thoughts washed away from the shortlived mortal pleasure of orgasm. Their bond becomes unsteady after losing control and the tendril inside her expands and then shrivels until it dissolves, leaving her spread wide open and gasping to fill her wasted lungs once more.

Her legs fall before she gets full control of herself anew. She feels sore and overused but the feeling of her afterglow and her patron curling back into her skin, content, for now. It is enough to make her smile tenderly at her… at her Qora.

**Author's Note:**

> Tyra is Bjarte's eldest adoptive sister. I'll make one work more about this universe this month.  
Maybe I should get sub-series too and separate the whole kinktober into different oneshots of each universe.  
I'm not quite content with the end of this chapter so let me know if it was alright, please.


End file.
